


The Blow-Up

by shipcestuous (x4ashes4ashes)



Category: Even Stevens (TV)
Genre: Belligerent Sexual Tension, Brother/Sister Incest, Canon Compliant, F/M, Incest, Louis is 16 Ren is 17, Sibling Incest, Slap Slap Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x4ashes4ashes/pseuds/shipcestuous
Summary: Totally realistic story about a fight between Louis and Ren that turns into sex.
Relationships: Louis Stevens/Ren Stevens
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're a fan, or for context if you're not, I've written a Ren/Louis commentary [here](https://shipcestuous2.wordpress.com/2020/04/26/even-stevens-part-i-ii/).

“ _Louis_!”

Jesus, what now? These days it seemed like he couldn't have five minutes of peace without getting screamed at by Ren. His shoes were in the way, his backpack was in the way, his drum set was in the way, he had eaten all of her snacks, he hadn't gotten his clothes out of the dryer, he hadn't taken his toast out of the toaster, he hadn't taken out the trash, his Tupperware smelled, he was spending too long in the shower, his music was too loud, his talking on the phone was too loud, his thinking was too loud, he got the hand towel in the kitchen dirty, it was his turn to empty the dishwasher, and even – one time – she was angry at him because his 'fearsome stench' was giving her a headache.

He smelled just fine this time: he was fresh out of the shower, deodorant was on, and underwear were clean. He threw on some sweat pants and and a white T-shirt and opened his door with a resounding “ _What_?”

Ren was standing across the hallway in her door frame, her arms crossed. She stepped aside, indicating that he should enter her room. She didn't invite him into her room very often... He played along impatiently, brushing roughly past her and standing at the foot of her bed. “ _What_? I'm getting so sick of your shit, Ren.”

Their mother didn't like them to swear, and out of respect he usually didn't do it when she was in the house, but their parents were out for the night at an office party and he figured it was fair game.

Silently, Ren marched over to her closet, and dramatically slid the door open. He shrugged insolently, still not sure what she was getting at and growing more irritated by the second, and then she pointed down at the floor and he saw: a pair of her shoes had been chewed on, gnawed through, and generally destroyed.

“Oh,” he said.

“ _Yeah_.” She kicked angrily at the purple pair of heels. “Those were a birthday present – they're _expensive_. Just how many pairs of shoes, in the course of my life, are your dogsitting jobs going to cost me?”

“Ren, I hear you, but I think Amadeus might have done you a favor: they're hideous.”

Amadeus was Tom's new puppy, and Louis had agreed – for a nice little paycheck – to watch the dog while Tom and Doris went on a trip. The five-month old golden retriever had proven to be a bit more of a handful than Louis had been expecting: 'Mads' had only been with the Stevens family for a day and he had already had his teeth on everything in sight. Louis thought his previous experience running a doggy daycare would have more than prepared him, but a puppy was a whole other animal. Louis had run the puppy to exhaustion and he was finally asleep and closed up in Donnie's vacant room.

“I don't know how much Tom is paying you and I don't care: I want new shoes.”

“You've got, like, a _million_ pairs.”

“But only one pair that look like that.”

“One too many, if you ask me.”

“I definitely didn't!” She raised her finger in his face and waved it around. “You owe me a replacement!”

“You should have closed your closet door.” He pointed. “That's why closets come with doors.”

“Why were you even in my room?”

“I wasn't. Maybe you left your hall door open too.”

“I definitely didn't!”

“OK, I put Mads in here, but only because I figured it was the one place he wouldn't chew on anything because it would all be covered with _your stinky perfume_.”

“It is not stinky, it's Chanel!” she replied heatedly, growing increasingly concerned he wouldn't be compensating her for her loss.

“It stinks, Ren!” He plugged his nose. “The fearsome stench gives me a _headache._ ”

She growled. “Why were you in my room?”

“I wasn't!”

“Yes, you were!”

“If I was, which I wasn't, it was probably because I knew you were hoarding the Girl Scout cookies. There's no 'I' in 'Thin Mints', _Ren_!”

“Yes, there is!” she cried with exasperation.

“OK, maybe there is,” he shouted pompously. “But if you had been sharing with the family, I wouldn't have had to come looking for them!”

“It's my box, you already ate a whole one all by yourself! And that's no excuse – you're 16! Spying on me and digging through my stuff is no longer younger-brothers-will-be-younger-brothers, it's just perverted now.”

“It will start being perverted when you stop stashing cookies!”

“I can stash whatever the hell I want to and leave my closet doors open if I want to, it's _my_ room.”

To annoy her, he began moving about, touching all of her things. She was on his heels, lightly kicking him, and trying to reach out to block him. “Nice. Ooh, soft. That's good, oh yeah.” He smelled a couple of candles. “I like that. Fresh! Oh, scratchy! Ooh, what's this?” He picked up a knickknack off of her desk – closer inspection showed it to be fired clay, something she had made in her ceramics elective at school - a class he knew from 'overhearing' her talking with Ruby that she had only taken to be around Jay, the latest guy she had a crush on. It hadn't worked out – Louis knew Jay was dating someone else. “A little bit too much time staring at Jay, not enough time listening to the teacher, eh?” He held it up to admire, a true disasterpiece. “What is this, a little piggy? Oink oink.”

She snatched it out of his hands, set it back down on her desk, and informed him with manufactured dignity: “It's a horse.”

“I don't think it is, Ren,” he replied.

“I suppose you're a master sculptor? You could do better?”

“I could sculpt a better horse with both hands tied behind my back. With my _toes_ , Ren.” She scoffed. “But I don't need to prove myself to you.”

She began pushing him towards the door but he leapt onto her bed, spying something on the other side. “Ooh.”

“Get off my bed, Louis!”

He jumped off the other side and she bounded after him - they did two or three laps around her room before he picked up something hanging off the side of her laundry hamper: a lacy push-up bra. “Ooh la la.”

“ _Louis_!” she screeched. She lurched to take it from him and he ran away.

“Trying to impress Jay? I'm glad you realized you needed some enhancements,” he shouted back at her.

“Shut up about Jay!” she screamed.

“A wittle sensitive, are we?”

She chased him down the stairs and they looped several times through the living room, dining room, and kitchen. This was a good fight – two floors, five rooms (so far) – invigorating! The best they had had in a long time. He and Ren could get along at times, but this _thing_ between them – this raw inborn hostility – always seemed to periodically rear its ugly head, like a pressure release. Too nice for too long and something always exploded in a spectacular fashion. With no one home to mediate, this could turn out to be one for the record books.

The fight was dumb – they almost always were – but Ren was like a mosquito bite and he just had to scratch.

Louis wasn't the track star he once dreamed of being, but even over such a short distance he was significantly faster than her. She turned heel and ran the other way, nearly catching him, but he was agile enough to spin and get going the other direction in time. He let her get close once, waving the bra in her face, but as she reached out he dashed away.

“You've been in a foul mood ever since Tawny dumped you!” Ren hissed.

“What's your excuse? You've been in a foul mood since you were born.”

“No, since _you_ were born!” she replied.

Her comment about Tawny stung, but it only slowed him down a little. “And, for your information, the break-up was mutual!” It actually had been mutual...sort of. Tawny had suggested that maybe their relationship had run its course, and instead of pleading with her to stay with him, he had reluctantly agreed. He didn't regret it, but it didn't exactly feel good either.

“”Mutual?'” Ren let out an enraging scoff. “ _Sure it was_. That's what they all say. And you're doing great, right? That's why you're home alone on a Friday night?”

“I'm not the only one home alone on a Friday night,” he reminded her. She was already changed into her pajamas, ready for a movie night alone. Or, more likely, a study session.

She deflected: “I didn't want to bring up Tawny, because I didn't want to have to feel sorry for you, but you earned it! She's with someone else now, isn't she? I saw them holding hands out in the parking lot today. Ouch!”

Ren had gotten under his skin – like she always did – and instead of feeling inflamed to run faster, he couldn't even concentrate on a single thought. He always enjoyed these fights...until he didn't. Until she said the thing that made him realize she could hurt him like no one else could. He had overscratched this mosquito bite and it was bleeding now. Ren plucked the bra out of his distracted hands and hollered, “Let's see how you like it!”, running back up the stairs and curving left into his bedroom.

“ _Ren_!”

She was approaching his closet when he arrived, a look of disgust on her face. “I should have brought gloves up from the kitchen. I don't actually want to touch anything in here.”

“Then get out!”

“No, you need a taste of your own medicine.”

She had abandoned the bra carelessly onto his for-once mostly clean floor, not taking the chance that he would hole up in his room behind a locked door while she returned it to where it belonged. It was a little unsettling to see it there, but not as unsettling as it should have been. He looked down at it, and then up at her, and found she had noticed where his attention was and was staring back at him, uneasy. He left it there.

The moment passed and she began moving around, laying her fingers on everything in his room just as he had done in hers. She picked his cologne up off his dresser and gave it a little spritz. “Is this legal in the state of California? I'm pretty sure it's toxic.”

“It's top-rated.”

“By who? Pig farmers?”

“The ladies love it.”

“Lady pig farmers? Where are these ladies? Maybe it smells all right in small amounts, but not the gallons you use to cover up your body odor.”

“What body odor?” He moved in on her, forcing her face into his armpit. “What body odor, huh? I smell _great!_ ”

She squealed and dropped down to the floor, crawling away from him. After she climbed back to her feet, she wiped her hands off on the back of his shirt. “Disgusting.”

“I just vacuumed three months ago!”

There was a remote on his desk – she picked it up and started hitting different buttons. “What does this do? Open the secret compartment where you keep all your Ninja Turtle action figures?”

He snatched it away from her. “No, that's the remote for the racing cart Twitty and I made for the robotics competition. If you recall, we won.”

“I don't.” She looked at some different sections of his room and made critical clicking sounds. “Pathetic. This room looks the same as it did when you were 10.”

“That's not true.” He lifted up a box of tissues and a bottle of lotion from his desk for her to see.

Her face contorted with horror. “ _What's wrong with you_!” But if he had hoped that would drive her out, it didn't. “Hmm, what's this?” she asked, lifting a piece of paper off of his dresser. His eyes burned but she didn't back down. “Song lyrics? No...Oh, it's a poem from Tawny, isn't it? Do you read this every night? Are these tear stains?”

“Give that back!”

He caged her against his dresser while she continued to read through it, making mocking faces. “'Special love', 'no one like you' – I guess she doesn't feel that way anymore, does she?” He didn't dare reach for the paper, it might rip.

“ _Give it back, Ren,”_ he said, in this most threatening voice.

She rotated within the enclosure of his arms, her back hard against the dresser, in order to face him. She wasn't intimidated. “Or what?” she challenged, innocently at first, then narrowing her eyes in anger.

Louis jerked towards her to grab it and she let out a pretty-sounding wince as her back hit the drawer handles. He had her pressed right up against the dresser, but he still couldn't take the poem from her – she was holding it high up in the air behind her. He was a couple of inches taller than her and his arms had a longer reach but it still wasn't quite enough to be able to grip it firmly so that it wouldn't tear. Entrenched, and determined to keep it away from him, Ren's eyes blazed vindictively. He stretched harder, practically flattening her against the dresser, and the sound she made as she attempted to match his effort caused him to turn his head and look at her curiously. She was embarrassed, and they both seemed to realize at the same time that they were essentially grinding up against each other.

Ren took advantage of his momentary distraction to knee him in the groin (not too hard but not too soft either) and make her escape, diving sideways onto his bed. He roared ferociously at the momentary agony and fell to his knees - though the aching throb was awkwardly stimulating once the sharp pain had receded – and he reached after her, with both of his hands grabbing one of her thighs under the hem of her pajama shorts and yanking her backwards so that she couldn't make it over to the other side of the bed. “Give it back!”

She grunted, trying to crawl away, but he was gripping her too tightly. She kicked wildly but he was able to hold her legs down. “If you want it back then stay out of my room!”

“I'm not _in_ your room!”

She howled angrily. “You know what I mean!” She was lying on her stomach now, swimming in his mountains of covers while he held her in place by her leg. “Ewwww!” she cried, squirming. “I already know how gross these sheets are – I did an expose on it.”

“For your information, my bedding is probably cleaner than yours.”

“You washed it?” she asked, her face deformed with skeptical wrinkles.

“Yes. Well, sort of. Mom did. Just a few days ago!”

What's this?” She patted with horror at a mound under his comforter. “This isn't your dinner from last night, is it?” With trepidation, she lifted up the comforter, but all she found was a white throw. After a second of surprise, she stopped struggling and lifted the blanket to her face, running it along her cheek. “Wow, this is really soft. Can I have this blanket?”

“No!”

“I'll trade it for the poem.”

“No way in hell.”

Ren began to struggle again, and she slipped through his fingers a little but not all the way. He knew he could let her go – she would never destroy the poem; when cooler heads prevailed, she would give it back and apologize. She would never post it online or photo copy it or do anything like that. But he didn't want to let her win and he didn't want to let her go. His blood was pumping a little to hard for him to make the rational decision – he was seeing red after the pain she had inflicted, the equivalent of which he never would have been allowed to inflict on her. (But he was glad they weren't in a _fight_ fight – Ren liked to pull hair and with those teeth she could bite a man's arm off.)

She picked up one of his pillows with her free hand and began batting him with it. “Really, a _pillow fight_?” he mocked. But it was sufficiently annoying. He ripped it out of her hands and tossed it away, but not before hammering her face with it a few times while she screeched.

He yanked her back again and climbed up onto the bed, reaching for the poem. “You're going to win through brute force?” she accused, rolling all the way onto her back to face him. “Not very sportsmanlike!”

_The nerve!_ “You just kneed me in the balls!”

“And I'm about to do it again!” He was on top of her now and she was in a prime position to do it. He tried to reach one hand down to protect his crotch and another one up towards the paper which she was holding off the opposite edge of the bed; his arm span wasn't quite long enough and she gave him a smug, satisfied smirk. Irritated, he uncupped himself and took the risk of pinning her arms down, trying to reel in the one that held the poem before she let him have it again.

He felt her stop moving and he looked down at her, surprised.

Then he froze too.

She had wrestled once – weakly, almost perfunctorily – to get free of his vise-grip, but she was still now, staring up at him with wide eyes. A new expression had come over her face – shock. She reflexively dropped the poem and it fluttered to the floor, but he barely noticed: Ren was a vision underneath him, her hair fanned out behind her, her chest heaving, and her wet, shiny lips parted uncertainly. Beautiful – _really_ beautiful. He suddenly let go of her arms and pulled back, but she didn't move.

_Oh my God, I want to kiss Ren._

The realization was abrupt and violent – unwelcome, but intriguing too.

She had looked beautiful to him before – she _was_ beautiful – but there was something about that particular moment that made him feel differently about it, about her beauty. Straddling her in his bed, their blood up, panting breathlessly like they were in the throes of passion...it was awkwardly sexy and it was affecting him in a way that was equal parts exhilarating and shaming. He would have been more ashamed, except that she was looking back at him with an expression that he didn't dare misread but would have sworn was resentful lust.

He he had never wanted to kiss someone so much, nor ever felt so much like he _had_ to do it, like he was tumbling into it rather than choosing.

They stayed like that for a long time, staring. It felt like a long time, anyway. He was afraid of scaring her off, but he took the chance and crawled up her body a couple more inches so that they were eye-to-eye, holding himself up with an arm folded on the bed side her. She gave a little shake like a terrified mouse, had a deer-in-the-headlights look, but didn't flee.

She slid her newly-freed arms down beside her and propped herself up on her elbows, bringing their faces within only an inch of each other and delivering herself up on a platter.

And then he did kiss her. Swiftly, recklessly, desperately. It was not a kiss that built slowly or explored with gentle caution – he slipped his hand right into her hair and his tongue right into her mouth. Ren met him with the same enthusiasm, moaning at the first contact and snaking an arm across his back. She moved her lips against his – it was a sloppy kiss, too impatient to find a good rhythm but satisfying all the same. They pulled apart, panting, and her head fell back against the bed with a soft thump.

They gaped at each other, frightened and bewildered. Then, embarrassed, they quickly averted their eyes.

“What did you just do?” she demanded, breathless and dazed.

He felt plenty self-conscious and guilty and unsure about what he had done but he returned with fire: “What did _I_ just do? You were _moaning_.”

“I wasn't!”

“Yeah, you were. You couldn't get enough. You were sucking on my lip.”

“I was not sucking on your lip!”

“My lip is telling a different story!”

She groaned in irritation and he was about to say another word to defend himself when she caught his lips with hers and before he had even recovered his breath they were at it again, eating each others' faces off.

“Stop doing that!” she accused a minute later, heaving.

He growled at her, somehow still annoyed with her while at the same time thinking she was the best and beautifulest and most wonderfulest thing on the planet. “That one was definitely not my fault!”

“Oh my God, Louis, are you hard?”

He reddened with embarrassment. “I don't think you realize how little it takes! I sometimes get hard running my hand across that soft blanket!”

“I don't want to hear about your weird sexual relationships with the objects in your room.” She winced and took her face into her hands. “What is happening?”

“Well, we were fighting, and...then we weren't.”

“I don't even remember what we were fighting about.”

“I don't either – except that I definitely don't owe you money or replacement shoes. It wasn't about that. That's all I remember.”

“The _shoes_!” She narrowed her eyes at him and he distracted her with another kiss. He wasn't sure how it would go, but she melted, and when she began sliding her hand through his hair and gently pulling at it, it was the most turned on he had ever been. It was like her hands had the instruction manual for his body and knew exactly what to do. Then she moaned and pulled him down onto her, pressing down hard with the hands on his back and pressing up hard with her body. He couldn't help it, he started to slide up and down against her.

The tumble had become a free fall.

He couldn't believe how fast this was happening. It felt like only a second ago that he wanted to tear her limb from limb. And he wouldn't have ever considered moving this fast with a girl he had just kissed for the first time, but with Ren it was like he would die if he didn't, and she was matching him move for move. He could actually conceive of it going all the way – right then, right there.

“ _Ren_ ,” he whispered against her face as their lips disengaged. He couldn't believe it was her name he was saying like that, but it glided easily off his tongue. She rolled her eyes up slowly to meet his and they exchanged an intense look of the same confused desire. He took a chance and worked his hand under her pajama tank top. It was easy access – she wasn't wearing a bra. She had an almost defiant expression her face, staring at him as he did it, but she didn't stop him. Then she swallowed, exhaled loudly, and let her head fall back as he cupped her breast and pinched the nipple lightly between the length of his fingers. “Oh my God,” she sighed, half in pleasure and half in horror.

“I was wrong, you don't need enhancements.”

He was not growing tired of the feel of her breast in his hand and she didn't seem to be growing tired of it either. He squeezed extra hard and a shudder erupted through her body, accompanied by a whimper she tried to muffle. She picked up one of his other pillows and held it up, blocking his face. “Oh God, I can't even look at you.”

He wrested it away from her and threw that one too. “Well it _is_ me, Ren.”

“I know,” she said in a pitiful whine.

He pushed her shirt up to take the breast into his mouth but she jumped up off the bed and began pacing. “No! No no no no no no no no no.” She gave a familiar groan: “ _Louis_!”

“You're blaming me? Typical!”

“There is _nothing_ typical about this. And _yes_!, I'm blaming you.”

“I didn't prank you into wanting to kiss me. It didn't happen because I took too long to empty the dishwasher or went into your room.”

“No, but you got all close to me of with all of your... _guy_ ness and you-you did that _thing_ with your tongue when you kissed me, and-and the soft blanket!, and you actually smell _really_ good right now... So, yeah, it's pretty much all. your. fault.” She glared at him. “This is very very _wrong_.”

“Doesn't feel wrong,” he said. It did, though. But it felt like every wrong decision he had ever made: tantalizing. Inevitable.

“No, you're mixing up morality with pleasure. Something isn't right just because it feels good. Besides, you're a horny teenage boy. You'll have sex with a blanket! You don't care-”

“I've never had sex with that blanket!”

“-if I'm your sister, as long as I'm breathing and have the right parts it doesn't matter to you. You can't be trusted to have an objective opinion until after you've recently had an orgasm anyway.”

Louis stood, indignant. “ _That's not fair_! This feels weird to me too. I wouldn't exactly call it ideal for me either.” He crossed his arms agitatedly trying to get them to fit together right, for some reason for the first time ever they wouldn't. “It's...scary.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, then relaxed them and nodded in a concessionary fashion. “OK. You're right.”

“And just to be clear: my most recent orgasm? Not that long ago.”

“I'll bet.”

“And you're not the only one who is confused: you're not even my type! You're bossy, Ren. An overachieving killjoy. Not. my. type.”

“Apparently I am,” she replied hotly.

“So would you say that I'm your type, then?” he asked, raising his brow playfully. “That follows, doesn't it?”

Her jaw dropped. “It's just hormones,” Ren reasoned, comforted, beginning to nod.

“Incest hormornes we're just having for the first time today?” he asked dryly.

Ren pointed angrily at him. “Don't say that word!”

“That _is_ the word, though.”

“And before you get the wrong idea: _no_!, I have never _once_ imagined this.”

“And you think I have? I'm as surprised as you are about what just happened. You think I lay in bed thinking about you? I don't. Except maybe ways to torture you.”

“Then what happened?” she demanded.

  
“I don't know!”

They couldn't quite look each other in the eyes. Whatever the reason, something _had_ happened. Louis suspected their fight tonight had been something of a last straw on a camel's back already full of straw, because the second he understood he wanted her, it felt like he always had.

He overcame his shame and embarrassment and looked her up and down suggestively, hoping to get her back into the bed somehow, regardless of whether it was wrong or not. Ren responded initially, then began shaking her head wildly. “No! _No_! Not me, I'm Ren Stevens! I refuse to have a weird problem like this! I don't want any weird fetishes or dark sexual secrets. I just want to date a nice boy at school who doesn't leave dirty dishes under his bed and _isn't my brother_.”

She was still there, though, in his room. Her hair was mussed and chaotic – she hadn't attempted to comb it down with her fingers. One of her spaghetti straps was hanging off her shoulder and she hadn't put it right again. She wanted more...she was just trying to talk herself out of it. She continued babbling: “You! You're-you're disgusting, and juvenile, and...impossible! And _frustrating_ , and-”

“ _Sexually_ frustrating,” he amended, approaching her. She took a wary step backwards, and so on and so forth, until he had walked her back into the dresser again. “And handsome, and funny, and sweet.” He paused. “Brilliant. Dashing.”

“Dashing?”

“Some have said. Exemplary. Rugged.” She scoffed. “Selfless. Clever. _Hot_.”

He kissed her, and she let him, and then he tipped her backwards onto the bed and fell alongside her. “Wow...” she breathed. “You've actually got game. Louis, I'm impressed.”

“I never thought I would be using it on you.”

“And I never thought it work on me...but it seems to...”

He kissed her into the mattress until they both had to come up for air, and this time she let him remove her pajama top all the way and trace his lips across her breasts while she closed her eyes and breathed raggedly.

Then she shoved him off. “Louis, go close your door and lock it!”

“No one's home!” he mumbled, trying to get his lips onto her again. “The last time Mom and Dad went to a party at Dad's work they weren't back until after eleven.”

“If you want this to happen you'll go do it right now. Do you want this to happen?”

“Yes.” He nodded hungrily, obediently, and she blushed, flattered, at his eagerness.

In his absence she sat up on the bed. “This is insane! What the hell is wrong with me? I'm in the middle of making the worst decision of my whole life. _I_ don't make bad decisions.”

“It'll be OK. I make bad decisions all the time. It usually works out fine.”

She made an utterance of disgust and scowled at him. “Even _you_ have never made a decision this bad.” She held her head in her hands, yanking a little at her own wild hair. “I know there will be consequences...why don't I care?”

He still couldn't quite get over the image of her topless in his bed. _Ren_. He felt oddly victorious, like he had just instantaneously and retroactively won every fight or argument they had ever had.

He returned to the bed and kissed her neck, easing her backwards onto the white throw that he had roughly spread out behind her. She rubbed her bare back against it ecstatically. “Are we really going to...?” he asked delicately.

It was incredible. Was Ren actually going to let him into her pants on what was essentially their first date? Those first kisses were so intense, they might have segued right into it. But for her to have stood up, dialogued about it, and then actually come back willing to do it? Incredible.

“...If you want to,” she answered shyly, chewing on her lip, grimacing with a foretaste of future regret. He gave her an obvious look in return, and she laughed. “Is this your first time?”

“No. Tawny and I... Not a lot, but...”

“Just do me a favor and forget everything you've ever seen in a porno.”

“Done. Is this _your_ first time?”

“Third,” she admitted.

“Do I actually have more experience than you?” he laughed. “That's a first.”

She hit his arm. “Don't tease me. I'll leave.”

He sobered. “I would _never_ tease you, Ren! I even think that ugly pig you made should be a in some kind of gallery.”

“Horse.”

“Right, horse. Is that not what I said?”

“And I'm sure if masturbation counts as a experience you're some kind of master.”

“Well, I don't want to brag, but...”

Then he mentioned, with quite a bit of embarrassment, that they needed a condom. “Louis, that's very responsible of you,” she said approvingly. He returned her patronizing tone with a dry look. “But it's OK. I'm on the pill.”

“You are?”

“My doctor put me on it because my periods were really painful.”

“Your periods were really painful for me too but no one gave me any medication for it.”

Ren glared at him and he kissed it away.

She ran her hand up his chest. “This T-shirt is so new and white. It makes me feel like, I don't know, sometimes you actually are clean.” A little timidly, he removed it. Ren's last boyfriend had been a bit of a jock – Louis was probably the furthest thing from it. She took a deep, nervous breath. Then, with embarrassment, she turned her face away, mumbling, “This is too weird.”

“I actually do have chest hair, OK? It's just very light in color.”

“The chest hair is not the issue, Louis!”

“I know. I know what the problem is. You need some more encouragement. A little visual stimulation.” He pulled off his sweats, grateful he had chosen to wear boxers that evening, and he stood in the middle of the room, doing a manly pose against his desk chair, and then another resting his arm on his dresser. Ren laughed. “Sexy, right?” He squatted, and did a sort of _Thinker_. Then he pursed his lips. “Blue Steel.”

He sighed, expecting her to get up and leave any second. But she climbed up onto her hands and knees and crawled under his covers. Then she pulled off her pajama shorts and discarded them onto his floor. He stared at her with wonder. “Ren, maybe we shouldn't...” He had wronged his sister before, but he really didn't want to be responsible for ruining her life.

“That's the sexiest thing you've said all night. Get over here.”

///

He was still rapturously enjoying her lips and her breasts and the noises she was making when Ren started wriggling, demanding more. He was a lot more nervous with Ren than he had been with Tawny – even that first time. With Tawny it was like they both knew it might take some time and some work to be _good_ , he felt like Ren had high expectations and he didn't want to disappoint her.

And with Tawny, they had always left some clothes on. Here he and Ren were, naked as the day they were born, pretending they were two experienced adults who knew what they were doing and not two embarrassed, graceless kids bumbling around. They hid shyly under the covers, had removed their underwear under them, but though he couldn't see her nakedness, he could feel it. “You're really beautiful, Ren.”

She stopped and stared at him, moved. “Thank you.”

He nodded, and coughed, and went back to mauling her breasts, which was somehow less intimate and easier than meeting her eyes or trying to talk to her. She squirmed again, and began grinding against him, so he took a deep breath and nodded at her.

“I'll just-”

“Yeah, OK, and I'll-

“OK, sure. And I'll-”

“Yeah. And maybe you could-”

“Oh, OK, yeah.”

It was an awkward road, but she helped guide him to the right spot, and after another moment of hesitation – maybe for the first time fully taking in how monumentally stupid and risky and insane this was – he thrust in. “This isn't going to last for very long,” he warned her, slowly and cautiously moving deeper inside her but already fizzing with the anticipation of his own orgasm. She was so warm, so soft, and she was holding him, and it was amazing.

She laughed. “It's OK, I know.” She reached up and tenderly palmed in his face, a gesture which came dangerously close to making him come faster.

She encouraged him with some breathless 'uh-huh's as he began to move more rapidly. He tried to remember to finger her clit but it was difficult not to get distracted by his own pleasure, and his instinct was to arrange his hands against his headboard in front of him and beside her head for more leverage.

They avoided each others' eyes, and he sort of alternated between staring into the dark wood of his headboard and looking down at their stomachs until she pulled his head down to her and kissed him lightly. He smiled at her, squinty and embarrassed and uncertain and really really happy.

For the rest of their lives Ren would know what sounds he made while having sex, what his facial expressions were, the size and shape of him, and the way he moved. That was...terrifying. But it seemed to be going pretty well, and she wasn't laughing at him. He found a good spot for her and his name escaped her lips – something, unlike some of the other noises she had supportively made, that he could tell with pride that he had actually elicited from her, provoked in her. There was a begging in it – a begging for more and he tried to deliver.

She began to move more aggressively, leveraging her hand against the wall and rising up to meet him. He thought about anything he could to keep going for a little longer – cafeteria food, his history homework, children with cancer – and then he felt her shudder and contract around him and go still with a sigh. He followed a second later, not realizing until that very moment that he hadn't really decided what to do – come inside her or pull out or what. He and Tawny had used condoms, which really simplified the issue. _My clean sheets_ , he thought with regret. He came inside her because it felt right, but when it was done and he laid down beside her, he wondered if maybe pulling out and ejaculating on the sheets or something might somehow have been slightly less incestuous. He awkwardly apologized, she probably didn't know what part of it all he was apologizing for.

He hesitantly wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She gave a start of surprise, then rolled towards him, resting her head on his chest, and he kissed her hair again. _This_ was weird. More weird that the making out, more weird than the sex, even. The post-coital cuddling was the real shock here. And he was shocked by how much he was enjoying it, not to mention that it was really taking the sting out of every hurtful thing she had ever said to him or every time she had ever driven him crazy with her nagging. In retrospect, though, the attention of those moments was flattering. And for one of the first times in his life he didn't feel like the younger brother. This crazy thing really had them on equal footing for once.

After a few minutes catching their breath, Ren said, “That was... I mean there's room for improvement but...”  
  
“I really don't want a review, Ren.”  
  
“No, I'm trying to say...I'm trying to say it was _good_.”

They twisted their heads to look each other in the eyes, and he felt her hair slide down his arm, one of those most fantastic feelings of his life. He was skeptical, but her expression was soft, affectionate, euphoric. “Did you really come?”

“I can't believe it, but yes, Louis. I really did.”

He grinned at her. “I did pretty good.”

She rolled her eyes.

Neither one of them really wanted to move, so he turned on the TV and they lied there for a while, watching whatever was on. After maybe 30 or 45 minutes, he began to nuzzle at her neck and paw at her chest, but she pushed him off.

“I'm recharged, ready to go again,” he declared.

“Oh no. That was a one-time thing, OK? Definitely a one-time thing. Probably definitely one time.”

Their conversation was lighthearted but it was jut the tip of the iceberg - there was a far more serious discussion underwater and it wasn't one he really wanted to have.

He didn't push, and they watched a little bit more TV, until they heard their parents' car pull up. “Shit, they're home!” Ren screeched. It was only 9:45, a little earlier than they had been expected. She jumped up and scrambled out of the bed. He politely averted his eyes so that she could dress in privacy. She grabbed the push-up bra last and then hurried to unlock his door, struggling with the mechanism in her frenzy.

  
“You're coming back, right?” Louis asked, still in place in the bed. “After you make an appearance at your desk and say hi to them?” She gave him a hard-to-read look. “You could sleep in here.”

“Louis – no.” She raised her brows at him like he was crazy.

He patted the bed beside him. “Come on, you know you want to.”

They could hear the front door opening. Ren gave him one last indecipherable look and then slipped out, closing his door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

Their parents chose the following morning, for some reason, to make a big breakfast. It was something that only happened one in five Saturdays, if even that. Scrambled eggs, sausage, french toast, grapefruit. A long, family breakfast. Their timing was unbelievable.

Louis was seated at the table already when Ren came downstairs. She had avoided him so far that morning, listening to the sounds of his bedroom door and the bathroom door and the pitter-patter of the puppy's footprints in order to gauge where he was and what he was doing.

The night before she had felt weightless. She'd had to read her weekend English assignment aloud to drown out the sound of her beating heart and put herself to sleep. This morning...this morning she felt sick to her stomach with fear. She felt like she weighed a thousand tons.

Her entire life she had tried to avoid secrets and now she had one of the ugliest and most shameful ones it was possible to have. It wasn't the type of secret that could be washed clean or fixed or rendered less serious by time. It was the sort of secret that would shock and horrify anyone at any time, and it would always just be there, and she would always have to live in fear that it would somehow get out.

_What I was thinking? I was possessed! I lost my mind!_

Ren Stevens didn't really feel like herself, not when she remembered what she had done. ...And how much she had wanted it. What was it exactly about Louis that had suddenly seemed so alluring? _He was Louis!_ 'Louis' and 'alluring' did not belong in the same sentence. And why was that only the first time she had realized that there was an... _energy_ there, between them?

She had never experienced such an explosion of desire before – she had wanted his hands and his mouth all over her and just _him him him him_. There was something about submitting to him that had made her realize she had been fighting something all along, some kind of...draw. She only knew the resistance had been there once she knew what its absence felt like.

But as much as she was kicking herself and feeling full of self-recriminations, as she sat down at the table and looked across at him, she felt it all stirring again. She still wanted him, she still wanted him to want her. She actually wanted to spend the day with him, which wasn't something she could ever recall having felt. Watching TV, doing whatever – she didn't care. She wanted those hands touching her again and she wanted to touch him back, to show him with her hands what she was feeling and how much she was feeling it.

She avoided his eyes, and avoided looking at him as much as possible. This led to an awkward brushing of their hands as they both reached for the salt, which in turn resulted in the salt and pepper both being knocked over with a clang, and one rolling to the floor.

They were excessively silent, to the point that their parents noticed and commented on it. Ren lied and said she was tired from staying up late studying – in fact, she had hardly studied at all, and had fallen way behind on her weekend study plan. Louis made a joke that went over their parents' heads about waking up early to spend some quality time with his blanket. She glanced at him once, giving him a warning look that he flagrantly disregarded. He asked their parents about the party, but only so that he could start telling them that he and Ren had 'hung out' while they were gone.

“You two were getting along?” their dad asked with surprise.

“Yeah.” Louis nodded slowly, as if considering the question. “I would say so. Wouldn't you agree, Ren?”

Ren smiled strainedly and didn't speak.

“That's nice,” their mom commented absentmindedly as she sliced her grapefruit. “And here I thought you two were due for a big blow-up.”

“No, there was no blowing,” Louis replied. Ren stuffed an enormous bite of french toast into her mouth and looked determinedly in the opposite direction, chewing aggressively.

“I love it when you two are friendly,” sighed their mom, smiling dreamily.

“Me too,” Louis agreed. “I'm starting to see there are real benefits to getting along with Ren.” He tried to catch Ren's eye with a teasing grin, but she stared wide-eyed down at her plate, gripping her fork with white knuckles. “I saw a whole new side of Ren last night!”

“That's great!” their dad said, enthusiastic. “You're such a great team when you find common ground. Did you write another song?”

“Actually we did! We made some beautiful music together.”

Ren felt her cheeks flood with heat. It seemed Louis's goal had been to make her blush – he relaxed his efforts at that point – or maybe because she kicked him under the table.

“Can't wait to hear it,” their father said, still clueless.

Louis bit his lip, trying not to laugh. “I'm not sure the world is ready for it.”

“Those drums were starting to get dusty. You've got to keep playing or else you'll lose what you've learned. Trust me, I know. Would you believe your old man used to sit first seat in the French horn section in orchestra and now I couldn't play ' _Es ist ein Ros’ entsprungen_ ' to save my life.”

“Gesundheit,” Louis replied.

“Dad, I didn't know you were first chair,” Ren said, purposefully prompting him into a long recollection and driving the conversation away from Louis' jokes.

///

After breakfast, Ren shut herself up in her room. Louis, maybe out of respect or maybe out of pride, didn't come a-knockin' until a full hour later. She cracked the door open and peered out at him but did not let him in.

“Yes?” she asked innocently.

“Ren, let me in.”

“No, I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Do you think it's a good idea for us to talk in the hallway? Dad is downstairs on the couch.”

“I don't think we need to talk.”

“ _Ren_.”

“Goodbye!”

At least one of their parents was at home at all times all weekend, which was very helpful for Ren's self-control. She passed by the bathroom Saturday night headed to her room just as Louis was coming out after having brushed his teeth before bed. He smelled minty fresh and looked so...mature and masculine in his T-shirt and sweats, the same thing he had been wearing the night before. It was almost startling how attractive he was to her and she realized he might never just be _Louis_ again.

He gave her a gloomy look and didn't say anything, turning his face away quickly and leaving immediately for his room – it was obvious he was hurt from being ignored but she could appreciate that he hadn't bothered her and hadn't worked out his frustration with her in any of his usual ways – putting plastic wrap over the toilet or rigging a pie to swing into her face or putting pudding in her tennis shoes. She heard him shut his door and felt her strongest temptation yet to march right in there and let whatever happened happen.

But she fought it and she won. Sunday wasn't any easier, though. Louis was doing his outdoor chores right outside her window and she couldn't help but watch, forgetting where she was in her calculus problems over and over and over again. He looked up at her while he was mowing the lawn and their eyes met. She did him the service of not looking away, even though she wanted to, and she even gave him a little wave. He didn't wave back but he sort of stiffly nodded.

Sunday evening they had dinner together as a family. Ren tried to take her food up to her room with her, but her parents wouldn't let her. Louis didn't make any jokes this time, he was thoughtful and subdued. There were short periods when he would stare at Ren, but for the most part he didn't look at her. She found herself staring at him, though, wondering what he was thinking, and missing his usual boisterous self.

That night she stood outside his door and lightly rapped. He opened it quickly expecting it to be one of their parents, and was taken-aback to see her there. “I'm not coming in,” she immediately told him.

“OK,” he replied softly, studying her with curiosity.

“I brought you a peace offering.” She handed over what remained of the box of Thin Mints. He smiled at them and set them down on the shelf beside him. “I'm worried I may have...hurt you,” she said carefully. Their parents were downstairs somewhere, she didn't know exactly where. She listened to hear them, but couldn't.

“I'm fine,” he replied, a little defensively, crossing his arms.

She gave him a half-smile, sliding her teeth over her bottom lip. “Good. But I just wanted you to know that staying away hasn't exactly been...easy.” She reached out and gave his chest an affectionate little tap. “Just so you know.”

“No?”

“No.” He began to grin and lift his eyebrows suggestively but she shut it down quickly: “But it can't happen again.”

He uncrossed his arms, leaning against his door frame in a sexy way that made her heart thump and her stomach dance. “Once it's happened, does it really matter if it happens again, though? I mean... If you were telling someone about it, and then said 'But it only happened once!', would it really make so much of a difference? Would that really be so much better?”

She began to consider that, then frowned and pointed at him. “No! Stop it with your Louis logic! That's a tempting thought but it's a slippery slope. Then before you know it we're giving Mom and Dad a weekend package tasting wine in Napa for their anniversary just to get them out of the house!”

“Doesn't sound so bad to me.”

She couldn't help it, she was flattered. She stared at him in surprise, feeling a heat swelling in her.

“Maybe you should come in,” he said, poking his head out the door and looking around. She realized then that the conversation had gotten a lot more incriminating than she had originally planned. She dashed over to the banister and peeked down, but their parents seemed to be watching TV in the back of the house.

“I really shouldn't,” Ren replied. She dropped her voice low: “I mean, Louis, what are you expecting? I'm not going to have some kind of twisted, perverse, debauched sexual affair with you. A series of incestuous trysts, does that really sound like something I would agree to, something I would go for? And the idea of it being more than just sex in even crazier. We're complete opposites!”

“That didn't seem to matter Friday night.” _No, it didn't_. He gave her a serious, searching look that shocked her. Was that what he wanted? Did he really want _her_ , all of her? “You know, I had fun just watching TV with you.”

“I was naked.”

“Yeah...” The side of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “But it didn't matter.”

She let out a sad half-laugh. “ _Louis_...”

“I got it. Not happening.” He stepped back and grabbed his door, ready to shut it. She continued to look at him. And he closed it.

///

Concentrating in her classes on Monday was nearly impossible. How could she think about calculus when she had spent the weekend trying not have sex with her brother again? She looked around at the faces of her classmates, certain none of them were facing a dilemma even remotely like hers. How many of them would be disgusted and shun her if they heard what had happened? How many of them would be surprised to learn that Ren Stevens had a dirty little secret? Or maybe they all expected her to have one, and now she finally did.

In 2nd period she saw Louis in the window of her classroom door. He gave her a smile that was just shy of suggestive, and she was both flattered and slightly aroused by the attention.

“I hope you weren't cutting class,” she said to him when they ran into each other in the hall after class was over. She had maybe been hanging around in the neighborhood of his locker...

“Just using the bathroom,” he swore, crossing his heart.

“I didn't even know that you knew which class I had 2nd period.”

“English, Ms. Meyer. Of course I knew.”

At lunch Ruby offered to take Ren with her in her car off-campus to get sushi. They passed by the outdoor dining area, and Louis and Tawny were seated at a table by themselves, deep in discussion. Tawny had her hands laid openly on the table, and Louis was leaning forward, looking her in the eyes and listening to her. Ren strained her neck to keep watching them but then Ruby turned up the next row and they were out of sight.

Ren felt a cold dread. Were they getting back together? Did Tawny want him back? Of course she wanted him back!

That was good, wasn't it? Wasn't that what she wanted? Didn't that solve ~~all~~ most of her problems?

No, it wasn't what she wanted at all. She wanted to scratch Tawny's eyes out.

_Shit_.

///

Ren found Louis after school in the mob by the flag pole where the buses loaded.

“I saw you talking with Tawny!” she blurted, unable to control herself.

He bit his lip and grinned at her. “Are you jealous?”

“No!”

There were people around, but they were all strangers to Ren, and all so consumed with what they themselves were doing. Louis leaned in and whispered in Ren's ear: “I think you are.”

“Well, what were you talking about?”

“None of your business.”

“Louis!” she nearly begged.

“Her grandmother is really sick.”

“...Oh.”

“That's all. She was just telling me about it. She just needed a friend for a few minutes.”

Ren, embarrassed, tucked her hair behind her ears. “I see.”

Louis was still smiling at her. “Ren, I didn't think about Tawny once all weekend.”

“No?”

“No.”

There was that thumping again, her heart. Oh God, what was this?

Alan came along, flocked by a handful of others, and rested his elbow on Louis' shoulder. “You coming for ice cream with us?”

Louis didn't so much as glance at Ren. “No, not today.”

“OK. I'll call you later to talk about ' _the project_ '. Ren, you want to come?”

“Thanks, Alan. I can't.”

Alan nodded at her, and then he and Louis did their handshake and he slipped off with the others.

“What kind of scheme are you two cooking up now?” she asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Just a sweet little plan to get us out of the gymnastics unit in P.E.” Louis turned an observant gaze towards Ren. “You have debate team, don't you?”

She took a deep breath. “I could miss a day.”

//

Their parents didn't usually get home from work until after 5:30, which gave them almost two hours alone. Ren waited impatiently while Louis took Tom's dog out, then with even more impatience while Louis used some of his gadgets to set-up a trip wire with a warning buzzer by the door to alert them of their parents' return. She closed all of the blinds and curtains upstairs and locked Louis' door behind her as she entered.

“Seeing you with Tawny today made me realize that I can't just... _bury_ this,” Ren confessed, standing in the middle of his room and feeling very vulnerable.

“Well I saw you coming out of Ceramics chatting with Jay and I didn't exactly like it either.”

“Jay who?” she said breathlessly.

He smiled in wonder at her, then took her head into his hands and kissed her hard, not wasting any time.

It wasn't long before they were in the bed again, stripping layers off and throwing them wildly, laughing as they did so, restless with anticipation.

Ren stopped. “What are we going to do?” she lamented, sitting there in her underwear, shaking her head.

“I know _exactly_ what we're going to do,” he replied, easing her down and beginning to kiss her stomach.


End file.
